


No Ordinary Fledge

by dustandroses



Series: Never as Safe [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Community: tamingthemuse, Dark, Ficlet, M/M, POV: Spike, Time Stamp Fic, UnChipped Spike, Vampire!Xander - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-14
Updated: 2012-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 08:24:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustandroses/pseuds/dustandroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been ten years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Ordinary Fledge

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt Notes:** Inspired by the LJ community Tamingthemuse: prompt #303 - A Decade Late and a Penny Short  
>  **Notes:** A Timestamp story - this takes place ten years after the second part of the series: Spike's Masterpiece. Special thanks to Ozsaur, for heading me in the right direction when I was floundering over what to do with this prompt.

**Ten Years Later**

Xander made an absolutely stunning Vampire: cruel and vicious one moment and brilliant and absolutely chilling the next. As the saying went - turning a vampire was a crap shoot. You never knew for certain exactly how they would react to the demon as it inhabited their body. Spike had hoped that the turning would leave Xander’s personality intact. Despite appearances, he’d liked the silly berk almost exactly the way he was. 

Spike had been lucky; he’s got a wonderful mix of blood-thirsty demon and sharp-witted, wicked little boy who didn’t mind playing second fiddle to his sire, as long as he got to strut his stuff at some point in the proceedings. Spike couldn’t begrudge him that. Especially not when the skills he’d honed over a decade of the hunt had left him a sleek and dangerous killing machine. 

Spike wondered sometimes if he’d managed to pick up something of Drusilla’s unusual talents simply by being sired by her, or perhaps by spending such a long time in her presence. Because his Xander was no ordinary fledge. Spike hadn’t sired too many childer; rearing them was too much like work. He’d been far too busy with his wicked plum to worry about such things. Besides, he was the first to admit that he got bored easily; none of his earlier attempts had managed to make it past their first anniversary.

Xander, however – he’d been certain of Xander from the beginning. Spike had never seen a fledge with so much of their old personality shining through. That hadn’t necessarily made it easy in the early days – Xander had always been a stubborn cuss. There were times when Spike almost appreciated the determination Angelus had shown when raising Spike. Almost. 

Spike had earned his hat trick with the help of his childe, who really deserved an Oscar for his performance that night in Spike’s crypt. He’d stepped out of the shadows, trembling and pale, reaching out for Buffy, who went to him without hesitation. She’d only realized when it was almost too late to react that Spike wasn’t the only vampire whose presence she’d felt in the room. 

It hadn’t been an easy battle, and Xander seemed to have instinctively known that this was Spike’s fight. He’d had stayed out of the way once the Slayer had realized his ruse, reacting only defensively when she got too close and took the opportunity to try and take Xander out of the equation with a sneak attack. 

That had been her downfall. When she’d gone after his childe, Spike had seen red. His assault had been vicious, his body moving fluidly, as every one of her snide, ugly remarks came back to him in a rush. Every angry word, every nasty, malicious insult was revisited and redressed, and as the Slayer lay bleeding at his feet he finally knew the satisfaction of erasing his shame for going to his mortal enemy for shelter.

He’d tasted slayer blood for the third time, and had offered the majority of it to his childe, knowing that Xander would grow strong under its influence. He watched as Xander drained her, laying her body out almost reverently, as befitted a worthy adversary, before advancing on Spike, his eyes wide and haunted in the candlelight, the scent of his arousal thick in the air. They’d made love then, strengthening their bond, sharing their blood and that of the Slayer’s as a reminder of what was yet to come.

Ten years. A relatively short amount of time in the course of an immortal creature’s existence, but for Spike, it had affirmed the saying that love will last forever. Spike smiled down on Xander as he awoke, his eyes searching for Spike before relaxing, sinking back against the pillows, holding out his hand in invitation. 

Spike took Xander’s hand in his own.

“Happy anniversary, love.”


End file.
